A Waiter in Paris: Adventures in the Dark Heart of the City

by Edward Chisholm

The only time you see a Parisian policeman out of his car is when he’s buying a kebab.’

The patron has commandeered the large table in the windows overlooking the square. He sits at the head, like a toad, with his usual look of discontent. He is with a group of fawning women who are half his age and twice his height and laugh exaggeratedly at anything he says.

When Piotr speaks about ‘investments’ he is invariably talking about the French Loto, of which he is a religious player. Camille would often tease him by telling him that the lottery was just ‘maths for idiots’.